


Domesticity

by VirginiasWolf



Series: Life Moves On [7]
Category: Death in Paradise
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-21 01:28:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21291377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VirginiasWolf/pseuds/VirginiasWolf
Summary: Richard and Camille experience an early taste of what domestic life will be like together.Part of the Life Moves On series.
Relationships: Camille Bordey/Richard Poole
Series: Life Moves On [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1456375
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10





	Domesticity

Of course, Richard had roommates at boarding school and university, but he'd barely even liked being around them and he certainly would never have considered decorating a home with them. None of his past girlfriends have ever found him interesting enough to allow things to get to the move in together stage either. So actually having a person to not just share his life with, but actually partially tailor his living space around is new. To top things off, his decorating partner isn't a nice English girl with decorating tastes similar to his, but an insanely vibrant French Caribbean woman with a fondness for tropical decor.

  
Actually, it isn't fair to become too angry. Camille is genuinely the most wonderful part of his life, but he can love the woman without loving all of her decor suggestions.

  
He has given in to some of them. Baja Orange isn't that bad of a color for an entry hall even though it feels so very Caribbean, especially with the celestial mosaic sculpture Camille has also insisted on putting on the wall. The dinnerware set she picked out isn't bad to look at either although the octopus design will take some getting used to, and he's let her pick out teacups that bear a similar floral design to the ones her mother has back on the island. A man has to have boundaries though, and this toilet paper holder is definitely a boundary he won't cross.

  
"Camille, I refuse to have those tiny beady eyes staring at me while I am trying to use the toilet, and whoever heard of putting a tuxedo on a lobster? The claws would shred the fabric the moment you tried to pull the suit over its' head and that posture is all wrong." He suddenly realizes he is outright ranting and stops. He doesn't want to hurt her feelings. What if she genuinely thinks the lobster butler toilet paper holder is charming? What if she starts crying or yelling? What if-

  
She's not crying or yelling he realizes. In fact, she's smiling. "Good."

  
"Good?" he asks completely dumbfounded by this sudden acceptance of his criticism.

  
"I've always found the concept of bathroom butlers to be extremely tacky."

  
"But you're the one who just suggested we should buy one. What if I had actually found it to be charming?"

  
"You get uncomfortable just eating lobster. I don't think it would be a stretch to assume you'd hate having one watching you in the bathroom. Anyway, all this decorating nonsense is becoming utterly boring to me." She falls onto the nearest bench with an exaggerated sigh. "The whole point of us sharing a home is to have a space where we can just be together and we've spent so much time trying to decorate it all at once that we haven't even done that. We have teacups and dishes, but we haven't even taken the time to just sit and talk to each other." Now she actually does look like she's about to cry, and Richard realizes she's right. They've spent so much of the past week trying to decorate their space that they haven't even tried to live in it. As important as it feels to make sure the flat suits both of their cultures, the entire point of this blending is being together as people. Not to mention that with a gauzed up nose and two black eyes he'd normally be far more self conscious about being out in public.

  
Softly, he sits down next to her on the bench before wrapping an arm around her shoulders. For a moment he worries his words will fail him as they always seem to in these types of situations so he just lets her lay her head on his shoulder as he tries to compose himself. "You're right. I think I got so caught up in trying to make sure we had everything perfect because I know London isn't your home. I remember exactly how scared and lonely I'd felt when I first came to Saint Marie like I was almost on a different planet, and I didn't want you to feel the same way about being here."

  
After a moment Camille looks up at him. "But London is my home. I have you here."

  
"Oh." It's not a very eloquent response, but then again his words rarely are, especially when spoken to her. Those beautiful brown eyes manage to sucker him in and he's left nothing short of speechless. He'd love to kiss her, but after several less than spectacular attempts, they've learned that as long as his nose is wrapped up he can't very well do anything that might obstruct his breathing. He can still touch her face though, and he reaches out to stroke her cheek. "I love you, Camille."

  
Suddenly he hears the sound of someone clearing their throat and it snaps him back to reality. Right. They are engaging in a public display of affection and although it isn't a particularly passionate one it is perhaps odd for the bathroom decor section of a department store. Quickly he turns to face the throat clearer and realizes the noise is coming from a matronly looking store employee.

  
Suddenly mortified Richard reverts to his typical response, which is rudeness. Standing up he jerks at Camille's hand. "C'mon Camille. Let's go home."

  
Fortunately, she follows without bothering to protest, although he's almost certain she shoots an apologetic look at the woman who had caught them.

  
-  
On the way back to the flat they decide to stop at a local restaurant and grab carryout and Richard finds himself storing the decor purchases they have made this morning in what will be the home office while Camille sets out places for a late lunch. Right now much of the flat is still filled with boxes of his things, and hers that were shipped over by an unsuspecting Catherine, but he can't help but marvel at how he imagines the flat will look once everything is set up. Not quite Richard Poole or Camille Bordey, but a mix of both of them. Maybe one day the home will also be scattered with children's books and toys and even a pet or two.

  
It has only been a little under three weeks since they purchased it. The price had been relatively decent to the point that it was almost suspicious. At least until the realtor revealed that the real reason for the cheapness was that the ugly wallpaper had driven away most potential buyers. It had almost been enough to drive Richard and Camille away too until his father had given him an offer that still manages to leave his head reeling.

  
While Richard and Camille went back to Paris for the two weeks they'd need to sort out their last affairs, his father had offered to get together some of the men from his rotary club and repaint the flat for him and Camille. Richard's first response had been to feel shocked. Had his father really offered to do something nice for him? However, Camille and his mother had convinced him to accept the offer. The only catch was that Richard and Camille had to decide on the paint colors before returning to Paris.

  
His father and the other men at the rotary club have done a remarkable job, even if Richard did let Camille win on many of the colors. Shaking himself out of his reveries, Richard makes his way back to their combined kitchen/dining room.

  
Camille has already laid out the plates from the new dinnerware set that they purchased only yesterday.

  
"Are we really going to use plates for takeout," He can't help but ask.

  
"Oh, we are definitely using these plates quite regularly. This was not a cheap set, and you need some lessons on cheer from the happy little octopus."

  
She does have a point, on the first part anyway. "Camille, there is no discernible way to tell if the octopus drawn on this plate is experiencing any form of emotion, which it clearly is not because it is not alive."

  
At this Camille lets out a soft huffing noise. "You really are amazing sometimes. You get so stuck on being brilliant that you forget how to have fun."

  
This comment does sting a little. If even the person who has decided to spend her life with him sees him as not fun then perhaps he is little more than tolerable to most of those around him. Of course, he can't help but wear the hurt on his face.

  
"You know that I didn't mean that in a cruel way, right? I just want you to learn how to take things less seriously sometimes, especially in our home. This is the one place where we both should feel free to relax."

  
He does want to relax here, especially with her so he gives in to the urge to just spend the afternoon chatting like she had mentioned wanting to do back in the department store. They must spend hours doing so, because eventually when Richard gets up to get a glass of water, during Camille's particularly animated retelling of her ten-year-old self trying to hide a goat in her bedroom, he realizes that the sky outside is actually showing the colors of twilight.

  
He decides to wait until she's finished her story to point out how much time has passed. After all, he needs to find out exactly what happened after Camille threw a sheet over the poor animal right before Catherine walked into the room. Finally, after she has finished speaking he asks "How long do you think we've been here for?"

  
"I don't know," Camille looks at him curiously as if she isn't sure exactly what point he's trying to get at.

  
"Because if that clock is to be believed, we've been talking for almost four hours."

  
"Oh?" her expression is still curious, but that smile she shoots him is wonderfully dazzling. In the past, it would have turned his insides to jelly, but that had all been back when he was pretending he wasn't already in love with her. Now that they're actually together the smile makes him feel loved but still a bit awkward.

  
"It was...it was really nice." More than anything he knows he means it. These past four hours have been far more rewarding than the ones spent attempting to decorate.

**Author's Note:**

> I know she only pops up briefly, but I think we should take a moment to think about how poor Catherine must have felt at this time point. Remember, she doesn't yet know that Camille moved to London with a very alive Richard, but she does know that her daughter left Saint Marie to get away from memories of Richard there and ended up quitting a job with INTERPOL to inexplicably live in the city that Richard "had" lived in. Perhaps she even knows that Richard had worked at Croydon and now that's the neighborhood that Camille has chosen to live in. I can't imagine she was able to fully keep from being worried for Camille's mental health.


End file.
